


Speaking from Silence

by levigate



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Novelization, i just need a place to put all my dumb headcanons ok, ilu keeper, so many keeper feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 17:56:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4029271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levigate/pseuds/levigate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuation of STEM operational testing:</p><p>Examine process of escaping system exploited by Withers subject. Facilitate father subject’s rescue of daughter subject.</p><p>Research Record No. 82347-BX<br/>Mobius</p><p>--</p><p>Your daughter is trapped within STEM, imprisoned by her connection. To free her you must also connect to STEM and kill all other subjects from within. Your physical form within STEM will not be your own. But you should find that to your advantage. STEMS influence will eventually erase your daughter's memories and she will become another creature of STEM.<br/>We will support you but you must act before that is allowed to happen.</p><p> </p><p>A novelization of The Executioner DLC. Characters will be added to tags as the story progresses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speaking from Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks go to HappyLeech for the beta. I probably should have had her reread before I posted but I get impatient.
> 
> Constructive criticism is always welcome.

_The liquid is warm around him, and he doesn't quite fit in the terminal. He's a large man but he manages somehow, legs folded tightly. He'll have cramps when this is through, but it will be worth it. One of the Mobius executives is watching him, standing at the side of the tub. He doesn't know her, but she looks important. She's talking to him and he can barely make out the words. It doesn't matter, he's already been briefed. He has to go into STEM to save his little girl. He isn't happy about this; he's never thought very highly of this project. He's going to go in and get his daughter out. As quickly as he can._

\--

He wakes up slowly, and his first immediate thought is he's blind. He cannot see, the world only a pervasive blackness. He had never considered how a creature without eyes might navigate its world, and for a moment he fears that this endeavor has failed before it had truly begun. His hand fumbles for the hammer he knows is before him, determined to at least try to continue. The wicked tool is unfamiliar in his grip, but he knows that is some horrible sort of meat tenderizer. Huge spikes protrude from face of the hammer, while the peen is one large piercing spike. It is designed to penetrate flesh and crush bone, and the very idea of it scares him. But it's necessary in order to save his daugher.

He gives a few experimental swings, testing it in blind arcs in the air. The man is surprised at how easily the hammer responds to his command, weaving through the air effortlessly in quick motions.  He hears a crash as a table is shattered into little pieces--he hadn't even been trying. Given its size and weight he’d expected more difficulty, but a hammer is a tool any idiot can use.

The cacophony of splintering wood is more than just sound. Each falling shard creates an echo; it isn’t exactly sight. It’s more like the environment itself is speaking to him, telling him that he’s in a small, wooden shack. There are crates in the corner, and he knows based on the reverberations that they are empty. He can’t control it. He shakes his head at the sensation, hands coming to rest on the cool, unfamiliar metal. It doesn't help, only reminds him how wrong this is. The images are jumbled mess in his head; he's used to only seeing what is in his line of sight, but there isn’t one. Sound waves bounce off wooden walls, back into his head. It’s like he has eyes everywhere, and all of the images conflict with each other, giving him the beginnings of a headache. Blindness was almost preferable to this. So he focuses, imagines he has eyes, and it is easier that way. No longer can he see behind him, his field of 'vision' reduced to something more manageable, something he can deal with.

His temporary body is large, much taller than the one he is used to--he can't imagine it's particularly fast. His entire body feels heavy, weighed down, and his steps thud loudly as he turns in the small cabin. He expects the burn of protesting muscles, but there is none. Still, his pace is agonizingly slow as he accustoms himself to his new body. There is a pervasive scent of decay in the air and it takes him a moment to realize what the source is. The heavy sack at his waist is dripping with some sort of bodily fluid. He doesn’t know what’s inside and he’s certain he doesn’t want to know.

When he notices the folder stuck to the door, it blazes and pulses in his mind, commanding his attention. He picks up the file with the Mobius logo emblazoned boldly on the cover. Blind, he shouldn't be able to read it; the words wriggle off the page and sear themselves into his mind.

 

**Mobius Directive 01:**

**Establish synchronization**

**Final test subject has been successfully inserted and attunement with the safe-headed creature has been verified.**

**You should be able to use our carrier wave to scan for residual traces of strong emotions.**

**New directive files will be transmitted for placement into the environment.**

 

The order isn't as useful as he'd hoped. It’s merely a status update. He doesn't know where to go, or what the next step is. First, he supposes, he should get out of here, and try to find the other subjects. As soon as he's made a decision he finds himself kicking the door open. It's not what he’d intended, but perhaps it was something like muscle memory. That would explain his vision, and his ease with the hammer.

Outside is incredibly disorienting, everything so wide and open. He can't see the sky; with this strange new perspective, it feels as though there is only void above him. He angles the great safe down, pretending it is his face. He won't look up, can't pay any attention to the yawning emptiness above him. Instead, he starts walking. He doesn't know where he's going, but he  plods along the only trail available. Hard dirt and fallen leaves crunch underfoot, though he refuses to try to look around. He knows he’s in a forest, but there is a great yawning nothing beyond the trees that makes him shy away and keep to his path.

Eventually he reaches a large metal gate, old and ornate in its simplicity. Taller even than himself, but there is no lock that he can see. One good kick is enough to send it swinging, and he enters the little courtyard of the Victoriano Estate. Weeds have overtaken most of the plaza, nature reclaiming the stone pathway and fountain in the center. The decorative hedges are wild and unkempt, and almost lost among the waist-high grass. Crows caw nearby, larger than any he’s seen in his life. They taunt him from the trees and the rim of the cracked fountain before him. Without thinking he lashes out, crushing one of the mocking things with his hammer. He freezes for a moment, trying to process what just happened.

The birds were annoying, but he would have never considered harming them. Yet the evidence is there, blood and feathers dripping from the spikes his weapon. He shudders at the sight and smell, and is almost thankful for the distraction when the doors of the manor burst open.

This must be one of the failed subjects, one of the ones he’s supposed to clear out. Physically unconnected, but something resembling a consciousness remains. He’s wearing a police uniform, and the man hesitates for a moment.

The zombie, for lack of better term, looks awful, tripping over himself as he lumbers down the stairs. Terrible quivering boils line his visible skin, and it looks as though some have popped, leaking pus in bloody tracks down his face and neck. He’s reaching for the box-headed man, letting gurgling moans escape his lips, wet with red-stained phlegm.

He knows that what he’s going to fight isn’t a person, not anymore. Really it’s more of a blessing, he tells himself. A release, letting whatever was left of this man finally be at peace.

The boxman’s movements are sluggish in this body but he manages to back away, out of the zombie’s reach. He circles the other, glad that the uncoordinated movements of the remnant are slower than his own. When he’s at the officer’s back he swings his hammer, only barely managing to contain his wince as rusted metal connects with his head with a sickening crunch. The monster stumbles at the force of the blow, but is already turning around. Again the man swings, smashing his face this time. Skin and muscle cling to the hammer as it tears at the officer’s flesh. The zombie trips over himself, dazed and confused, and so the man takes his chance. He grabs the confused officer by the throat with his free hand. It’s remarkable how incredibly small his opponent is. He brings him before his face and it is though the zombie weighs almost nothing. This close the stench of rot is unmistakable

Now that he has him, the man doesn’t quite know what to do with him. Broken fingernails scrape against his gloves, leaving trails of blood in their wake that linger on the fabric. The thing wheezes and moans in his grip as he struggles for freedom.

The father has no time for this. His child is waiting for him. Making a decision, he throws the zombie on the ground before him and stomps with a heavy boot. There is almost no resistance as the head pops like overripe fruit. There is a crackling sound as bone shatters beneath his weight, brain matter and blood splattering everywhere. The man imagines himself swallowing heavily, hiding his distress. He doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to kill. But for his daughter he will.

He turns away and slowly trudges up the stairs into the dark interior of the manor. Behind him the body of the officer catches fire, before it dissolves into nothing but smoke and ash.

  



End file.
